


Snared

by Immicolia



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Bondage, Breathplay, M/M, PWP, Sex Toys, possible dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-10
Updated: 2013-03-10
Packaged: 2017-12-04 06:15:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/707461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Immicolia/pseuds/Immicolia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>"There is nothing more satisfying than Orihara Izaya off balance."</i>  Written for the DRRR Secret Santa.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snared

**Author's Note:**

> As mentioned in the summary, this was written for the DRRR Secret Santa for rukawagf. The prompt was simply for fetish toys, although I still think I kind of fell short on that part. And since this is basically PWP that exists with no setup it can be read as potential dubcon, although I never really intended it as such. Uses one of my alternate headcanons where Tsukumoya is human.

There is nothing more satisfying than Orihara Izaya off balance.

Tsukumoya has seen it before, several times over. Orihara he watches, and as such he sees when the man stumbles a bit as well as those all too rare occasions when he falls completely. He sees everything, really and more often than not he watches with a distant sort of amusement.

Usually, but not today.

Today he watches from a mere three feet away while Izaya twists and squirms against the lengths of cable wrapped around his wrists. Makeshift bonds that pull his arms tight above his head and leave him stretched out under Tsukumoya's watchful gaze. Sweat-slick skin and wiry muscle. A ball gag clamped firmly between his teeth and his eyes are narrowed furiously.

"If looks could kill." It's a tired old saying, but it has its uses and Orihara's eyes want to flay him alive right now.

Not that it particularly matters. Orihara is wrapped up in his web. Tangled up tight and tilted back in a computer chair, stark naked with his legs spread wide and waiting.

It's a terribly appealing sight.

"Your curiosity will be the end of you someday, Orihara. That and your arrogance I suppose." Tsukumoya's voice is cool and indifferent as he speaks; turning a small remote over in his hands while he watches Izaya's face and every faint tick of emotion that crosses those features. The room is dim, most of the lighting a faint blue-green glow being cast by multiple server towers and a wall of monitors, but it is enough. It's more than enough. Like everything he sees it all. There is the arrogance, there is the frustration, there is the annoyance....

There is the desperate wanton need.

A light touch on the remote and the small egg-shaped vibrator pushed deep within Izaya's body whirs to life, drawing a sound that is somewhere between a protest and an eager groan. Izaya's spine arching and he squirms against his bonds. Although whether it's in an attempt to squirm free or to attempt to work the toy a little deeper is hard to say at the moment.

Whatever the reason it paints a perfectly enticing picture.

Tsukumoya gives it a few moments, watches Izaya's cock swell without even the slightest touch. Watches him try to twitch his hips upwards in a vain attempt to fuck some kind of satisfaction out of the air itself. It's beautiful really, Izaya sweating and straining, and the needy whine that escapes his throat when Tsukumoya turns the vibrator back down is perfection.

Izaya is still glaring as if he wants Tsukumoya to die, but it's for a different reason now. The need is stronger and every muscle is pulled tight. Orihara's whole body tense and desperate and hungry for more.

Tsukumoya's eyes don't leave Izaya's body as he saunters forward, closing the last of the distance between them. His smile smooth and lazy while he taps the remote absently against his palm and studies Izaya's splayed form. Murmuring, "decisions, decisions," under his breath as he does.

There are just far too many possibilities for making Orihara squirm and all of them would be far too satisfying.

After a moment's consideration Tsukumoya turns the vibrator on low, appreciating the way Izaya's whole body nearly spasms at the faint thrum. The faintest smile of satisfaction twisting his lips and he sets the remote aside, leaning over Izaya's body predatorily; long fingers threading through Izaya's sweat-damp hair, almost petting him.

"There are simply so many things I could do to you like this." Tsukumoya's lips press against the sweat-slick hollow of Izaya's throat, savouring the taste of skin underneath his tongue and he imagines just how easily he could put Izaya over the edge with his mouth alone. The faintest touch and Orihara would be begging. He very likely already would be if he could speak and that thought alone is enough to send a pulse of heat straight to Tsukumoya's groin.

"Do you regret it, Orihara, walking straight into my "parlor" so to speak and into this situation? Or is this precisely what you wanted? It seems unusual that you'd allow anyone to get the drop on you, take advantage of you, like this unless it was according to some grand plan."

Tsukumoya pauses, moving away from the intoxicating heat of Izaya's body just enough to slip his shirt off over his head. That lazy smile still teasing at the corners of his mouth widening slightly at the way Izaya's eyes follow his every movement, Tsukumoya's hands sliding slowly downwards to pop open the top button on his jeans.

"You're a curiosity, really. I don't tend to involve myself with people but you do make for a terribly intriguing exception. Motivations are curious things that can truly only be speculated upon unless you're lucky enough to be told. And I don't enjoy speculation, save for when it comes to you." Tsukumoya's hand slides inside his jeans, his fingers sliding around his cock. "You're the anomaly. Why else would I invite you here? I've never allowed anyone to see my inner sanctum before, do you feel honoured?"

Izaya simply groans around his gag, anger lurking somewhere behind the naked want in his eyes and Tsukumoya laughs, stepping between Izaya's spread legs. One hand slipping back into his jeans long enough to free his cock and a satisfied hum escapes Tsukumoya's throat as his dick slides against Izaya's, his eyes nearly fluttering shut at the sensation.

Tsukumoya forces them to stay open; however, to keep watching Izaya's face and the way Orihara's own eyes glaze over in pleasure. The slightest bit of drool escaping from around the edge of the gag and Tsukumoya can't stop from wetting his own lower lip with his tongue. One hand reaching up to unfasten the gag and the kiss they share as Tsukumoya casts it to the side is a sloppy, starving, thing. Izaya's breathing ragged when their lips finally move apart.

"You... you think... you're so... so fucking... clever."

Tsukumoya's smile twists into something sharp and almost vicious and he tilts his head forward just enough to press their foreheads together, looking Izaya right in the eye. "I know I'm clever, Orihara. And I'm far more so than you'll ever be."

Izaya scoffs at that, a sharp, disgusted, noise, but Tsukumoya doesn't care. He has is proof in every needy little noise that Izaya makes as he rubs their cocks together. Every twitch and struggle and the rapid thrum of Izaya's pulse under his palm.

It almost kills him to stop. Tsukumoya knows he could quite happily rub himself off against Izaya's dick, but that's not what he wants. He wants more than that. He wants Izaya to feel every inch of him and scream and beg for more. This image firmly in Tsukumoya's mind as he finishes peeling away his pants and retrieves the lubricant waiting on a nearby table, his smile sharp and satisfied as Izaya intently watches him prepare himself. Every movement carefully measured when he spreads Izaya's legs just a little bit farther, propping one up on his shoulder, and eases the head of his cock into Izaya's already slick and ready hole. Nudging the speed on the vibrator up just a bit and leaving it hum away deep inside the informant's body. The noise Izaya makes in response desperate and strangled, his skin flushing a tempting shade of pink.

Tsukumoya stands there for a moment, still and silent, the fingers of one hand tracing absent patterns on Izaya's calf while the informant gasps and moans underneath him. Carefully holding the urge to lose himself in Izaya's body in check for the moment. He has plans. Plans to make this all the sweeter.

Izaya can tell that something is up, catching his breath enough to frown and pant, "what...?" before the question doesn't matter anymore. Tsukumoya is already moving. His hips snap forward, making Izaya's eyes flutter closed at the tangled mess of sensation rocking through him. The sharp burn of Tsukumoya's cock stretching him open combined with that quiet thrum of the vibrator leaving him completely oblivious to the slim length of cable curling around his neck.

Oblivious, until Tsukumoya begins to squeeze.

His eyes snap open again, and Tsukumoya smiles and licks his lips. Savouring the way Izaya tries to twist himself free, ultimately fucking himself down onto Tsukumoya's cock even further and Tsukumoya finds himself pulling back a little in response. The combination of Izaya's tight heat and the steady thrum of the vibrator right next to his dick nearly enough to make his legs give out from under him. The next few thrusts quick and shallow as Tsukumoya keeps up the steady pressure against Izaya's throat, eventually leaning forward and capturing Izaya's mouth under his own.

He kisses the last of the air out of Izaya's lungs. Hips snapping forward sharply and Izaya's entire body convulses around him, clamping down on his dick so hard that his vision swims. Tsukumoya's whole body pulling bowstring taut and his own breathing goes ragged and desperate, balancing on the sharp edge of losing control while Izaya bucks and squirms and struggles to breathe underneath him. 

It's the most amazing thing, to have someone so arrogant brought so low. To have absolute proof that he is sharper, that he will always know more, that he will always have the upper hand. That he can reduce a grand manipulator like Orihara Izaya to a desperate, begging, mess

Tsukumoya's grip on the cable around Izaya's throat loosens a bit, just enough for Izaya to suck in a ragged gasp before he comes hot and thick between them. Fluid spattering across his chest as his whole body jerks in time to every movement Tsukumoya makes.

Tsukumoya can only last a few more shallow thrusts beyond that point (Izaya is too damn hot, too damn tight) before he loses control as well. Spilling into Izaya's body and nearly collapsing against him. Breathing shallow against the side of Izaya's throat and it takes a moment for him to regain his senses enough to pull out. His movements slow and oh-so-careful, causing Izaya to groan in need as he moves away. Pulling the vibrator out as well with a slick pop and Izaya's whole body shivers, his eyes glassy and unfocused.

It's an appealing sight, and Tsukumoya can't help but leer a little. His fingers dip into the cum spread across Izaya's belly, mopping at it a bit while he muses out loud. "Ah, I should have recorded you like this."

"Mmm. Surprised you didn't." Izaya's eyes are half closed and Tsukumoya can't stop the small chuckle that escapes his throat. "You are a voyeur at heart."

"Maybe next time."

"Think you can snare me twice?"

"Of course. I know you walked right into this one willingly. Why wouldn't you do it again?"

Izaya says nothing beyond a vague hum and Tsukumoya laughs, carefully untying Izaya's wrists and ankles, allowing him to curl up more comfortably before staggering off towards the shower. His mind still buzzing with possibilities.


End file.
